


head filled with smoke.

by nui (cogito)



Series: teeth in the grass [3]
Category: Kagerou Project
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot, no actually this is plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-08
Updated: 2014-05-08
Packaged: 2018-01-24 00:08:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1584482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cogito/pseuds/nui
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>shintaro has had this dream for a long, long time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	head filled with smoke.

When he comes to, there is the smell of smoke and ash.  He is fifteen, awkward and gangly in the places where he should be smooth and able. The screaming awakens him from his daze to ground him, and Shintaro doesn’t recall how long he’s been standing there frozen in his own fear and incredulity. 

What was happening? Why was their village being burned down? Why are people screaming?  It’s deafening, and the screams that reach his ears are so loud they’re almost silent. Shintaro doesn’t understand.  He stares dumbly at the chaos and carnage around him, blood in the streets, buildings collapsing under missing weights.  Then he looks down, at his hands, marked with grime and dusk.

He turns around. The sight of his home, still unharmed from the fire, allows him to slump his shoulders a little. Oh, good, he thinks, allowing himself a breath of relief as he takes a step towards the old building.  “Mother? Momo?”  He tries calling out his mother’s name, then his sister’s, in a tentative voice that seemed like it was unsure if he himself was even alive. It is too small, too little for anyone to hear.  His mother and sister are nowhere to be seen. Perhaps they didn’t hear him, or perhaps, they were… 

Father had disappeared long ago, so there was no reason for him to be inside his house. Shintaro moves on from the deadbeat immediately.  He clutches his chest, his heart thumping loudly at the thought of them dying and their bodies somewhere in the house, bleeding into the tatami.  The door looked pretty off-hinged too, someone could of broken in.

As he thinks about running in, the clopping of horses behind him stops his tracks before he’s prepared himself.  The speakers are yelling in unknown voices, nondescript words, and mystifying languages he can’t make out. They sound louder than the screaming and chaos around him, though. All of a sudden, Shintaro notices the others have almost died off now, and he is left with the silence around him and the loud voices of the men speaking to him. It’s like his ears haven’t popped.  Shintaro doesn’t move. They could kill him with one strike, probably.  He’s seen men get trampled to death under the horses. One of them commands him to turn around. He understands this, and reluctantly obeys. 

“Do you live here?” The man asks, dismounting and glancing at him. Shintaro’s nose scrunches a little, trying to make out his features.  He has golden hair like the sun and blue-green eyes that reflect the red of the flames around them.  Their hues are singed red like blood, becoming another unwanted source of light. Slowly, Shintaro nods, gripping the fabric of his kimono. He bows his head, looking down and refusing to speak.

“Aw, poor thing, he’s so scared he can’t even look at us.” One of the other men calls out.  Shintaro doesn’t look at him, doesn’t remember  what he must looked like. 

The man that dismounted earlier takes a step towards Shintaro, hand still rested against the blade at his waist.  Shintaro swallows, squeezing his eyes shut and praying that he should be spared from this carnage.  He just wanted to live in peace, didn’t want anyone to bother him, and he didn’t want bother anyone. Why was this happening?

Whinnying suddenly fills air, and Shintaro whips his head up just in time to see the other mounted men fall on the ground, their bodies hitting the ground with a harsh thump. The white-figure that’s suddenly appeared simply whips his blade in the air, cleaning it free of blood as he goes after the blonde man standing in front of Shintaro.

Shintaro doesn’t even see the blade enter the last man’s body before he too, is on the ground. His breath hitches, watching in amazement as the hooded figure kicks the corpse out of the way. Finally, his hero pulls off his still pristine white hood and grins, saying something about an organization somewhere and how perfect it would for him to hone his skills. 

Kuroha. Shintaro croaks hoarsely. 

Although Kuroha still speaking to him, Shintaro can’t hear it even if he tries to step closer.  Instead, he finds himself set in the center of a roasting pit; the flames reach up to curl around his ankles.  They coil around his legs and wrists, slithering against his body and licking with the intensity of the furnace that leaves burns everywhere.  Shintaro screams. Help me, Kuroha! Help me! Please—I don’t want to die! The blue-green-red eyes of the foreigner with golden hair still burn fresh in his mind even as he screams his throat raw, even as Kuroha seems to not notice.

**::**

Shintaro snaps awake from his dream, screaming and coated in sweat as he tries to gather himself. His hand searches beside him for Kuroha, but his mentor has already gone, disappeared into the forest surrounding the barracks in the dawn hours of the day. 

He curls in on himself, and closes his eyes, trying to get a least a little bit of shut eye before he’s roughly woken up by the morning rounds.  He doesn’t think he’ll be eating very much today.  The apprentice reaches out for Kuroha’s pillow and curls around it, as if Kuroha’s scent would give him some sort of comfort.


End file.
